


it's (Been) a long time coming

by valValiant



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Polyamory, Teens Are Bad At Feelings, amberpricefield, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-06-30 19:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15757896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valValiant/pseuds/valValiant
Summary: Max is back in Arcadia Bay after five years. It's almost like a storybook homecoming, only things aren't nearly as perfect as she might have hoped. It'll be rough, navigating the hallways of her senior year and Arcadia Bay at large, as well as the relationships that form, but happiness is waiting.And it's (Been) a long time coming.





	it's (Been) a long time coming

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So, uh first fic and all that. Also my first time writing in nearly three years? Anyway, the idea behind this is just Amberpricefield, with 'How to Live Here' and 'all the shapes i know (are gone)' being the driving inspiration behind starting all of this, so huge shoutout to the authors of those works for being inspiringly awesome!
> 
> You can find me on my Tumblr @ valValiant!

"Maxine, honey, we're here."

Her mother's hand upon her knee stills its nervous shaking. Max looks up. Both her parents have turned around in their seats and look at her with concern clearly etched upon their faces. They've finally pulled into the Blackwell Academy parking lot after nearly four hours on the road. Is it really that obvious, she wonders, clutching at the strap of her camera bag. But yes, of course it is. Her leg has always betrayed the speed at which her thoughts flit from worry to worry without stop.

"Not having second thoughts, are ya kiddo?" Her father says with his usual gruff humor. Max fiddles with the strap, as if it weren't already perfectly adjusted for a girl of her stature, but it's the only thing of her's they hadn't shipped on ahead. Her mother remains silent, looking at her with those caring blue eyes. It's enough to prompt her to speak, even if she can't fully process her thoughts quite yet.

"No. Just... thinking about what classes are gonna be like." The lie nearly sticks on her tongue and she wonders if her parents can tell. It's not like she can just say she's worried about running into a certain blonde after five years of radio silence. "I mean, not every high school has its own post-graduate program for college credits, right?"

It's enough for her father, who turns back around in his seat, nodding. "It's what makes Blackwell so unique." Then he's unbuckling his seat belt and stepping out of the car. Max follows his lead, wincing as her joints protest at the sudden unfolding they've experienced, closing the door as gingerly as possible behind her. She takes a deep breath. Even without the prospect of studying under the world famous Mark Jefferson, getting to taste the crisp autumn air of Arcadia Bay once again makes this whole relocation worth it. "Isn't it great?" Her father asks from behind her.

Max nods, then lets out a loud and wholly undignified squeal as her father lifts her up off the ground in a classic Ryan Caulfield bearhug. "Dad!"

He only laughs as her mother joins them, gently squeezing Max in her own, softer hug. "This is just your father's way of saying he'll miss you."

"I know," Max whines, "but he doesn't have to lift me up like I'm a little kid. I'm nearly eighteen!" Her father ruffles her hair as he sets her down.

"Of course, honey," her mother soothes as she runs her fingers through Max's hair, setting it back in order. "But you'll always be our little girl."

Max huffs, straightening out her hoodie and adjusting her camera bag. She takes a step back. If she prolongs this any longer, she really will break down just like a kid, and then what would her parents think of her? "I... Better get going. Lots to unpack. Friends to make." Her words are spilling out too fast. She pulls out her Polaroid camera. "Photos to take. You know."

Her parents nod. She knows they can tell. That they don't is an immense relief. "They'll be expecting you, so don't worry about getting into your dorm."

As the car leaves the parking lot, Max lifts up her camera. Click. Without waiting to see how it turned out, she tucks the photo into her bag and turns around. "Right. Dormitories were... This way?" If she remembers correctly -the tour she attended over the summer was somewhat rushed- they're on the other side of campus. It's not a far walk, and Max takes her time meandering across the quad. She snaps a picture of the statue, then another of a pair of squirrels she spies in the far corner. Little by little the unease that had settled over her on the drive down starts to slip away, replaced by a giddy excitement. She's really here in Arcadia Bay. She's really going to be attending one of, if not the most, prestigious private academy this side of the Rockies. And there really are squirrels mere feet away!

"Having fun?" An obviously amused voice speaks up behind her.

"Ah!" Max scrambles to keep hold of her camera, too absorbed in childish glee to notice the footsteps behind her. Once she's safely secured her camera back in its bag, she turns around. Her cheeks are burning and she can only hope the golden glow of the setting sun is enough to hide her embarrassment, but- oh wow.

Dressed in a black midriff baring top and white capris, her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, the girl standing in front of her is beautiful. Max is instantly reminded of so many different schoolgirl crushes and God, she's staring, something that the other girls seems none too bothered by. In fact, her grin only seems to widen, lighting up her entire face.

"You must be Maxine," she says, holding out her hand in greeting. "I'm Dana."

Max has never been more glad to hear her first name. It's enough to rattle her to her senses. "Just Max," she says, taking Dana's proffered hand. "Please." She adds, realizing how blunt she'd just sounded.

"Just Max," Dana echoes, giving Max's hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry. I'll make sure everyone knows. Anyway, you're probably wondering what I'm doing here, yeah?" She lets go of Max's hand and takes a step back.

"Uh, yeah, I guess?" Max admits. Her parents had said the school knew she was coming. But that could've just meant that there'd be a security guard waiting to let her inside.

"Well, move-in day was actually Wednesday."

"Oh," Max can feel herself shrinking already. Had her parents known? Even if they had, they probably couldn't have gotten out of work any sooner. Her thoughts start to spiral and Dana can probably tell because she hurriedly continues.

"Normally the school just leaves the keys of whoever didn't turn up with security so that they can collect them whenever, but," and Dana holds up a finger with another dazzling smile. "It's so rare for us to get a scholarship transfer in the senior year." Her other hand moves out from behind her back and Max realizes she's been hiding it this entire time. In it are a set of keys, one red, the other white.

"That's... Wait, really?" Max's brow furrows. Was her being here even a bigger deal than she'd thought? She'd been ecstatic the day her acceptance letter had come in. Jumping on her bed, calling up Kristen and Fernando and her parents. For a time she'd even considered calling Chloe but fear and anxiety and the weight of five years of silence had swiftly snuffed out that instinct. With a start, she realizes she's spacing again. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Dana assures her and Max can tell she means it. "Blackwell's pretty picky these days, so you must be quite talented to be accepted on scholarship is all I'm saying." Dana hands her the keys, then takes her by the wrist. "C'mon, let's get you to your room.

Max follows without protest. Dana's words echo in her mind. 'Quite talented...' No matter who said it, her parents, her friends, the words never stuck. She's just some girl who takes photos. Her whole reason for coming to Blackwell is to 'git gud' as Fernando put it back when she gave up on Dark Souls. Only to be punched in the arm by Kristen immediately after. Dana leads her down some stairs. Max remembers this much at least. Just hang a left and- "Wow." She'd forgotten just how beautiful the dormitory quad is. The trees, the benches, the lone totem pole looming over the back corner. It's like Blackwell's own miniature park. And the way it borders on actual woodland? Max wonders if deer ever get close to campus.

She's still envisioning the perfect shot of a deer next to the totem pole in the light of the Golden Hour when she realizes they've come to a stop. "I took the liberty of color-coding your keys so you'll always know which is which. Red one will get you into the building and the white one's for your room. Easy, yeah?" Max looks at the keys, then to the red brick of the building. She can only assume the hallways are painted white. She looks to Dana and nods. Dana smiles, relief clear on her face. "Great!"

Dana leads her into the building and up the stairs, explaining that most everyone's already gone for the evening. Some club is holding a party to ring in the new school year. Max hardly pays attention. She's too caught up in wondering if Chloe ever lived here. What if she still lives here?

"Max?" Dana's turned around and looking at her. She's spaced out again. She looks away sheepishly and spies a dorm map on the wall. Dana Ward. Taylor Christensen. Victoria Chase. Maxine Caulfield. She winces at seeing her full name. Hopefully Dana keeps her promise of making sure everyone knows. But there's no Chloe Price and Max can feel the tension release from her shoulders. It's immediately followed by an intense shame. Is she really dreading running into Chloe  _that_  much?

"Sorry."

Dana walks back towards her and rests a hand on her shoulder. "Max, it's fine. You're not the first to be a little overwhelmed. If you ever have any questions, just come find me, alright? That's what I'm here for." Dana takes her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before her leading her down the hallway.

She lists off the occupants of each room as they pass, stopping at Kate Marsh's room to actually introduce the two. Kate's a quiet girl, like her, dressed rather formally. She's pretty, in a subdued sort of way. Dana explains that Kate's here on an artistic scholarship as well, even if her grades aren't too shabby either. "And her art is absolutely adorable." Kate protests quietly, but it's clear to Max she's glad of the other girl's praise. Dana seems content to let the two of them chat, but then her phone is vibrating. "Shit."

Max nearly giggles at the way Kate's eyebrows lift. "Got somewhere to be?"

Dana nods. "Yeah, I'm supposed to be giving my friend a ride to that party. I'm really sorry to cut this short, but can I show you to your room and leave it at that for today?"

Max shrugs. "I think I can handle that." Besides, it'd give her time to unpack. Maybe get in a shower. The two say their goodbyes to Kate, and then they're off.

Dana continues to name the occupants of different rooms while the two make their way down the hall. As they pass by a door without comment, Max pauses, noting the purple light filtering out from beneath it and the writing on the whiteboard. 'All the stars are dead. Their light, false.' That's... Depressing. Thinking back to the dorm map, she realizes this room had been without a name. Even though she knows Dana's in a hurry, she can't help but ask. "Whose room is this?"

Dana stops and turns, looking at the door. "Oh, that's just..." She starts to say before her eyes take in the purple light. Her cheerful expression slips away. When she speaks again, her voice is lower and tinged with sadness. "I didn't think she'd be coming back." But then she's moving again.

Max lingers. A shadow appears beneath the door before slowly receding and Max turns away to catch up with Dana.

"That's Rachel Amber's room. She stopped coming to school five months ago, but I guess she's back now." Dana's voice is wistful, and she seems to have more to say only to hesitate. Max doesn't press for answers, even if she is incredibly curious. Dana stops three doors down. "Well, here we are! Again, I'm really sorry to leave you like this. Remember, any questions. Find me. Bye Max, have a good night!"

Max watches Dana jog down the hall and pull out her phone. "Juliet, hey, sorry. I'm on my..." As she rounds the corner, her voice fades, and Max turns to face her room once more. Left to her own devices, she finds herself at a loss. She knows she should unpack. Knows that it'll only cause trouble for herself down the line if she doesn't get everything sorted out. Here and now when she has the time.

"It's too early to be a dysfunctional mess, Max," she murmurs. A door opens down the hall, closer than Kate's, and Max turns at the sound. Rachel Amber's door. So the girl stepping out must be...

Oh Dog. Are all the girls at Blackwell going to be this pretty? Where Dana reminded Max of past schoolgirl crushes, Rachel Amber, with her long blonde hair, reminds Max of her _first_  crush. She's softer than Dana, her style more subdued, the jeans hugging her hips torn in just the right places to be trendy rather than trashy. Max knows she's staring at this point. Rachel locks her door and turns. Their eyes meet.

Caught.

For a brief moment, Max thinks there's a hint of recognition in the other girl's eyes, but then she's distracted by a splash of blue contrasting against the red flannel she wears, a blue feather dangling from her left ear. "Max, right?" Rachel's voice, smooth and soft, drags her attention back. Whatever that look had been just now, it's gone, replaced by a warm friendliness.

"Just-" Max starts to correct her, then stops and blinks. "Yeah. That's right." She can feel her cheeks burning. Correcting the people she meets has become such second nature that even when someone gets it right, she instinctively leaps to assert herself. But Rachel doesn't seem to mind. Instead she smiles, not dazzling like Dana, but warm and comforting. Desperate not to let the silence slide into awkwardness, Max blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. "You're not going to the party?" Stupid. She isn't even sure where the question came from. Maybe it's because Rachel's clothes scream 'party girl'.

The blonde shrugs. "Not my scene," she says, and Max can almost hear an 'anymore' that goes unsaid. "I'm surprised Dana didn't invite you along. She loves including the new blood, even if Vic hates it."

Vic. Victoria Chase, probably. The name sounds familiar but she can't quite place it. Something to ponder later. "I'm kind of glad she didn't."

"Not your scene either?"

A nervous chuckle slips out. "What, you can't tell?"

Rachel is leaning against the wall now, hair spilling over her shoulder as she examines Max. "People can be full of surprises, Max. Who's to say you wouldn't kill in a mosh pit?" Before Max can even think to ask where that came from, Rachel's moving on. "Do you want some help?"

Max blinks. "What?"

"With your room. You need to unpack, yeah? It's cool if you don't. I just figured it'd go faster with two. Plus I get to learn _all_  about the new kid before anyone else."

"Uh, sure." It makes sense. Kind of. It only takes a second to unlock her door and then she's stepping inside. She takes a moment to take in the room, while Rachel simply breezes on past. Just as promised, her boxes occupy the middle of the room. There's a bed, a desk, even a couch and small shelf unit to hold her books.

"Went for the pre-furnished option I see," Rachel says, flopping down onto the couch and leaning forward to drag one of the boxes towards her. "Smart."

"I came from Seattle," Max explains, taking a seat on the floor and pulling close her own box. "Didn't exactly have room for, well, much of anything really." She gestures to the stacked boxes, then pulls open the box in front of her. Books. Max glances at the shelves. It's not where she'd have started, but it is a start.

"Long Beach." It takes only a second to realize what Rachel's saying. When she looks back towards the blonde, she finds her with one of Max's books in hand, a wistful expression on her face.

"I'd have figured New York."

"Really? And why's that?"

Max idly rubs at the sleeve of her hoodie. She considers telling Rachel about how she's always been able to get a feel for people, but that sounds too much like bragging and she doesn't want a possible friend thinking she's got a big head. So she settles for a shrug and murmurs, "What's it matter? I was wrong anyway."

Rachel laughs, and again there's something else that Max can't quite place. Maybe she isn't as good at reading people as she thought. Or maybe Rachel's more complicated than most. "Fair enough," she says, handing the book to Max before pulling open the box. "Ooooo, this is cute!" Max's clothes.

After that, it's simply pulling Max's clothes from the box and asking which drawer to place it in with the occasional comment on how cute a particular shirt or jacket is. (The jacket comments stop after the third, nearly identical hoodie is revealed.) But soon enough it's become a game, with the blonde coming up with outfits from her wardrobe.

"I'll be honest," Rachel says eventually. "You don't have a lot to work with here, variety-wise." Max opens her mouth to protest, she _likes_ her wardrobe, only for Rachel to continue undeterred after giving Max a once-over. "But we're not that different, at least height-wise. You could probably borrow some of my shit and then we'd really be getting somewhere. I bet you'd rock a pleated mini-skirt."

"That's _not_  happening," Max insists. "Besides, I told you I'm not the party sort of person."

"People dress up for all sorts of things, Max. Doesn't have to be for a party." Rachel's looking at her now, head tilted to the side, her hazel eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Photo shoots, for instance." There it is again, the hint of something more behind Rachel's words that Max can't quite place.

"Wait, how'd you know I was a photographer?"

"What?"

Max pulls her camera from her bag. "Photography. It's... What I'm here for." Seconds pass where neither of them blink. Then Rachel's doubled over laughing, bright and loud, and Max can't help but let out a nervous chuckle as well.

"I didn't!" Rachel gasps out between giggles. She takes a few breaths to calm herself before continuing. "I was talking about myself. I'm taking the photography class this year, but it's cool that you are too. You should show me some of your stuff."

"Maybe some other time?"

"A photographer who hesitates to show off her own stuff. That's a first. Vic's always bragging about her weekend shoots."

Max knows Rachel's just teasing. She can hear it in her voice. It doesn't stop her from being right however, and Max can feel herself deflating. She tries to hide it. Quite poorly though, because now Rachel's kneeling in front of her, close enough for Max to realize how much she smells of jasmine and she's struck by the hope that the car ride down hasn't left her smelling weird.

A hand upon her shoulder pulls her out of her own thoughts. "Hey. It'll be fine. Blackwell scholarships aren't given out like candy, you know. If you're here it's because you _earned_  it." Maybe it's because this is the second time she's heard it today. Or maybe it's because Rachel says it with such sincerity that she can't help but believe her. Whatever the reason, Max finds herself nodding. "C'mon. Let's get you unpacked. No more games from me, I promise."

And so they do. Max pulls out the rest of her books while Rachel gets to work on actually putting away her clothes, though she does notice the blonde occasionally glance over her shoulder and down at the growing pile. Probably judging her taste in literature. *Or lack thereof,* Max thinks as she pulls out a particularly old childhood favorite, then shakes her head to dispel the thought. Rachel doesn't seem to be the sort to judge. Maybe tease, but never outright judge.

Rachel is the first to finish, shutting the final drawer with a bump of her hip and then joining Max on the floor, asking her how she wants the books to go. Together, they make quick work of the box before moving on to the next. Little by little, her room which was so plain before, starts to take on a life of its own with all the bits and pieces of her over the years finding a place. Her guitar ends up leaning against the couch and though Max fends off Rachel's pleas to hear her play (she's a little rusty), she does end up promising to perform for the blonde at some point.

"And it better not be Wonderwall," Rachel says with a laugh and a playful shove.

This is nice, Max allows herself to think as she tips over, her eyes drifting to the fairy lights hanging over her bed, lingering on the empty space beneath. Conscious of Rachel's eyes upon her, but buoyed by the warm fuzziness bubbling inside, Max pulls her camera out. She takes only a second to tilt her head back, gauging the distance between herself and Rachel, as well as the proper angle and then she's looking up again. Click.

The whirring of her camera as the photo slides out fills the room. Max reaches up, but Rachel beats her to it, deft fingers plucking the still developing picture and holding it up in the air.

"Shit, Max, you figured out the angle from just a glance? With this lighting? Like, I know what I said earlier, but this? This is hella impressive."

"You don't mind?" Max throws an arm across her face, peeking at Rachel from the corner of her eye. Her cheeks are burning up again. It's stupid, she knows, to be this embarrassed after such effusive praise, but it's not like she can help it. She sets her camera down off to the side and forces herself to sit up, legs crossed.

"Do I mind having my pic taken by a hella talented photographer?" Rachel takes a seat on her bed and hands her the Polaroid. To Max's relief, she's right. It's a good photo. She looks more nervous than she'd like, but Rachel's clearly a natural at modeling. "Mar- Mr. Jefferson..."

It's the first time she's heard her at a loss for words this entire night. Max looks up from the photo. Sees the indecision on Rachel's face. She weighs the pros and cons of asking if everything's alright, but before she can come to a decision, Rachel's speaking again. "Vic's gonna have it out for you once she sees how good you are." It's so obviously not what she was going to say that Max wants to question Rachel. Press for answers like she would have with another blonde-haired girl years ago. It's a stupid desire. One that Max suppresses immediately. Rachel's not Chloe.

"An enemy from day one? That's not very reassuring, Rachel," Max tries to play it off as a joke, and maybe it works because Rachel's waving off her remark.

"More like rival. Victoria's way more bark than bite these days." Rachel stands up and moves to the center of the room. "So. Max."

Max waits for whatever's to follow, but now Rachel's chewing at her lip, her eyes darting from Max to the door and back again. "Rachel?"

"Do you... Smoke? Not like cigarettes, but, you know..." It takes a second for Max to make the connection.

"Oh. No." Usually that's enough for Max. To just outright deny the possibility of smoking weed, but this time's different though. This time it's not some random guy who's probably intent on getting her to loosen up. Maybe this time it's just a possible friend offering a chance to spend a little more time together and even though Rachel's nodding, Max finds herself rushing to explain. "It's not that I'm against it. Just... timing. And stuff. Besides, I should probably get some rest."

Rachel's smile is full of understanding. "Of course, Max. I get you. But," she adds, holding up a finger as if in warning. Her smile broadens with a hint of mischief, "If you leave the door open like that, I'm just going to keep offering to smoke you out. A girl's gotta be firm in her convictions. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow." With those parting words, she turns away and walks out of the room.

As soon as the door closes behind Rachel, Max pulls herself back and onto the bed. She stares up at the ceiling. Now that Rachel's gone, she feels she can process the entirety of the last few hours. Was that... Flirting? The clothes, the effusive praise for her photo, the offer to smoke together? She almost wants to message Kristen and ask for her take on the matter. Fernando would just throw in a thousand jokes while never really addressing Max's _need_ to know. Tomorrow, she decides, standing up and walking over to grab some PJs. After she's changed, Max then grabs her toothbrush and toothpaste, a hundred questions swirling through her mind as she makes her way to the showers.

Maybe Rachel's like that with everyone? But then Max thinks back to the words outside Rachel's door. Was it just a facade? Dana did say that Rachel had dropped out for a while. And the way she had stumbled when bring up Mark Jefferson.

"It's not even the first day, Max Caulfield. Focus on yourself for once." Talking to herself helps, -her body's on auto-pilot by this point- takes her out of the spiral of thoughts that are a near constant in her life. Brush. Rinse. Wash.

Max shuffles back to her room after deciding that a shower can wait until the morning. Fatigue's starting to settle in. She collects her camera from the floor, placing it back in her bag, which she leaves on her desk. She sets an alarm for the morning, a little earlier than her norm just to be safe. All that's left is to crawl into bed and- Oh, right. She stops, her eyes falling upon the photo of her and Rachel.

One last thing.

She grabs a thumbtack and pins the photo to her wall. It looks lonely, all on its own, so Max retrieves her photo of her parents car and of the squirrel. Those get pinned to the wall as well. Not quite center, but it gives her a better idea of the space she has yet to fill.

She hopes she can fill it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please please please let me know what you thought. I put a lot of effort into getting this together and I really would like to continue, but it's hard on my own. Also I promise Chloe's going to turn up! Probably next chapter, which I'll be getting to work on soon!


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